put it in a love song
by moeten
Summary: four times barney and robin danced, and one time they didn't.


**2006**

* * *

It takes Barney a while to divest himself of the turtle costume, and then he can't get back into the high school, so he sits on a bench outside and drinks from his pocket flask and waits for his friends to come find him. They all come out in a group, Lily and Marshall and Ted loud and chipper, even Robin grinning. Then Barney is forced to watch an awkward ten minute goodbye — _see you tomorrow! you too! nice seeing you! you too!_ ; kill him, _please_ — between Ted and Robin before the former piles into a cab with Marshall and Lily.

Robin comes and sits next to him on the bench. "Have a good prom?" she asks, smiling broadly.

"I take it you and Ted made up," Barney says. He considers. "If I pass you the flask, are you going to drain it?"

"I drank cough syrup and was barfed on," Robin says. He passes her the flask and she takes a drink before passing it back. "Yeah, me and Ted are friends again," she adds, smiling again.

"I'm not sure I approve." Barney says. She laughs at his tone, although he didn't mean it as a joke: between Robin and Victoria, he hasn't had any opportunities to wingman it up with Ted lately. He was hoping the juicing fiasco was going to get things back to normal.

"I'm pretty happy about it," Robin shrugs. "Don't tell him, though. I told him I was still mad."

"Are you?" He doesn't really care about Robin's feelings, except where they're going to screw up his friendship with Ted.

She tugs at the hem of her dress. "Maybe a little." He doesn't ask, but she elaborates anyway: "I _am_ the one who invited him over. He still screwed up big time, but it's not like…" She sighs, and this time it's frustrated. "And then we were _slow dancing_ and it was _prom_ … you know?"

He tries to imagine it, slow dancing at prom, the lights and the music and the romance, but he's not a teenaged girl so he doesn't get far. "No," he says. She laughs again.

"By the way, I'm hanging out here because I'm assuming you're waiting on a cab we can split back to town," Robin adds after a minute. "You did, right?"

"You assume correctly. And not a cab, a towncar." He takes another gulp from his flask and passes it back to her. "There's just a little left; you can have it." She thanks him and he watches her throw her head back, her neck long and pale, with vague interest. "You might have had a fun feelings hour, but _my_ prom kind of blew," he complains.

"Yeah, nice turtle costume. What were you going for?"

"I was _trying_ to do my duties as a bro and friend and help Ted and Marshall get inside to score… music. Whatever. Then I was going to make my own rounds, and…"

" _Please_ don't say anything about high school students," Robin interrupts.

"Desperate chaperones. Teachers and single mothers whose high school boyfriends left them for younger blondes, now watching this display of youthful hormones and wishing they too could be so young, so care-free, once more." Barney gazes into the middle distance, and then sighs forlornly.

Robin isn't sympathetic: she actually just laughs. "And how does one go about hitting on prom chaperones?"

"Mood lighting, bad punch, slow dancing to shitty music. Just like any prom. Just like my prom." He's lying; he never went to his, although that's a detail he has no interest in sharing. "Just how Ted did it to you just now."

Robin ignores the dig. "Somehow I can't picture you at your prom. What did you dance to?"

"Groovy Love," he says. "Or whatever. The Phil Collins song from the movie." Or anyway, he'd been really into that song when it had first come out, right when he'd started high school and had thought love and romance was what he wanted. They aren't good memories, so he ignores them. "What did you and Ted dance to as you had your touching reunion?"

"Marshall and Lily's song." He almost points out that if she and Ted get together, they'll get a song too; Ted will insist. He doesn't because that's lame, and because from the look on her face, he thinks she might realize it already. "Who did you go with to your prom?"

"Please. I came stag and banged the head cheerleader in the shop class."

"After wooing her with Phil Collins?"

"You know it." He wonders if she's going to call him on his lie. He'd deny it, of course, but he's curious. She doesn't, chuckling and then looking out towards the road, a few loser teenagers still waiting for parents to pick them up at the curb, and he wants her to. Call him on it. Keep the conversation going. Pay attention to him… or something. " _When I'm feeling blue_ ," he croons. Robin looks bewildered, but then laughs on the next lyric he sings. He hasn't heard the song in ages and improvises a little; " _all I have to do, is take a look at you, then it's not so true…_ "

"When did this song come out? The eighties?" Robin laughs, and then she looks at him for a second as he hums his way through the next part of the song, and then she stands up and holds her hand out to him.

He stops trying to remember old lyrics. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not a chaperone and you're not going to score, but, c'mon," she says. Her expression is maybe a little pitying, but he's pursued worse. And he's not pursuing her, especially now that the Ted show is back on.

He stands and puts his hands at her waist; she places hers on his shoulders. They stand there. "What was this cheerleader's name?" she asks.

"Brittany," he says. He doesn't actually know. He has the feeling Robin meant for this whole thing to be sort of a joke, but he's never been so physically close to her before and there's no music it's not very funny. He swallows, then takes his hands from her waist, moving one to her shoulder and clasping the other. " _When I'm feeling blue_ ," he sings, starting from the top because he's out of words; he leads them in an off-beat tango, speeding up Phil Collins to match the rhythm, and now Robin is laughing.

He march-dances them through the first verse of the song, spinning her on the word _groovy_ in the chorus, and she spins and falls into his arms mid-giggle. "I can see why she fell for you," Robin jokes, heavy against him. She smells like cheap perfume.

"If you want to know the real reason, I'm sure we can get into the shop classroom," he says, pressing his luck, but of course, laughing and shaking her head, Robin pushes herself away.

* * *

 **2007**

* * *

Barney's sitting at the reception bar, nursing a victory scotch, and Robin takes the empty seat to his left. He sees her out of the corner of his eye, figures she wants something. "I get it," he says, raising his glass so the golden liquid catches the light. "You're single. You've been stuck with Ted for a year and now you're desperate for what only I can give. Well, I'm sorry to say that the Bro Code, patent Stinson, expressly forbids —"

"Yeah, no," Robin says. There's an undercurrent of amusement, though, and he turns to look at her. She meets his eye and then avoids it, smiling at the surface of the bar. "Water, please," she says to the bartender. "I hear you and Ted are back together," she says to Barney.

"I knew he'd be unable to resist the legendary life that I can offer him," Barney says, with relish. Then: "But sorry you guys broke up." He gives Robin a sideways frown, not sure how to play it. Ted will want sympathy and for Barney to talk about how much he _understands_ , even though he doesn't, really. He's not sure what Robin wants. Any other time, he wouldn't care what some ex of Ted feels.

"Yeah," Robin says heavily. She takes a small sip of her water.

"Okay, but, are you _sure_ you're not pregnant?" he asks, and gestures at her glass when she looks at him.

"Positive," Robin says, and he can't decide if she's wry or disappointed, and isn't sure why both options make him feel kind of mad.

"Hmm," he says, drinking his scotch. He's said all the sympathetic things he can think of, so now what? Ted would be crying about how perfect Robin was but he lost her, probably will be later. It's a price Barney is (grudgingly) willing to pay to get his bro back. But somehow he can't imagine Robin weeping in a closet somewhere. And he's not sure what he'd do if she were.

"It's just like, all I've wanted to do for the past couple of weeks is get wasted and… whatever," Robin says, unprompted, surprising him a little bit. He glances back at her, and she's staring morosely at her glass. "So obviously that was a bad idea."

"Why?" Barney asks, honestly not getting it.

She frowns at him, resting her cheek against her hand. "Getting all emotional over a break up would make it hard to keep it hidden," she says simply.

"So you actually _are_ upset?" Barney asks. "Because, I'm not letting you take Ted back. This isn't gonna be one of those breakups where everyone is emotionally invested in the tragedy of its end, only for you to change your minds later on. You aren't Marshall and Lily."

Robin snorts and shakes her head. "'The tragedy of its end?' Don't tell me you were rooting for us."

"Please," Barney says. "Of course not. Ted has many years of bro-dom in his future. As do you," he adds generously, even though Robin is a woman and so it's more of an honorary title.

Robin smiles for a second longer, but then she sobers, blinking a few times and looking away. "It's not going to be one of those breakups," she says quietly. He ignores the wetness in her eyes,out of respect for her honorary brodom.

"Good." He doesn't know what else to say; he goes back to thinking of the best possible Bro's Night Out (Back On The Market Edition). He'd like to ask Robin for feedback, but he knows that wouldn't be a great idea. But seriously: MacLaren's (nostalgic, comfortable, after a year on the bench Ted has to be off his game even more than… always), or tickets to Vegas?

Then Robin sniffles, just once, but loudly enough that he automatically flinches away. When he looks over, terrified, she's got her eyes closed tight, head tilted downwards. "Are you okay?" he forces himself to ask.

"Yeah. God. I just…" Robin wipes her hand across her face, carefully for her makeup. "It just sucks. I didn't have a future with Ted, I _knew_ that, but I _hoped_ …" She fans her hand in front of her face. "I'm fine!" she laughs, sniffs, wipes under her eyes. "This is why I haven't been drinking. All I've wanted to do for weeks is crawl under a table with a bottle of liquor. But then we kept pretending we were fine and I almost forgot we _did_ …" She takes a deep breath, composing herself.

Something weird is going on in his chest; he can't figure if it's fear of women crying, fear of _Robin_ crying, or something else that makes his best bro's name hurt a little bit. He doesn't know, and he doesn't know what to say. "Do you wanna dance?" It just bursts out of him, and Robin looks as taken aback as he feels.

He recovers faster. "To celebrate your freedom from the soul-decay that is monogamy! I don't know what you're getting all—" he gestures at her "—about; you dodged a bullet, Scherbatsky." The more he speaks, the more sure he is that this is true and this is what this entire conversation has really been about. "' _Boo hoo_ ,'" he says in a bad imitation of Robin, "'I don't get to move to Long Island and pop out babies!' Please. Obviously, my upcoming schedule will mostly be consumed with rehabilitating Ted, but I can spare you one dance."

He watches Robin take a deep breath. "And that's going to be enough to rehabilitate me?" she asks. Her smile is a little uncertain, but she's smiling.

"You have a shorter distance to travel," he tells her. He drains his glass and slides off the barstool, extending her his hand. When she takes it, her hand is dry and warm.

The dancefloor is almost empty; the reception is winding down. The band is just starting an slow cover of _Let's Stay Together_ , and they dance to it, Robin's arms resting on his shoulders, his hands on her hips.

"Thank you," Robin says after a minute.

He frowns. "Why?"

"Just… thanks." She doesn't quite meet his eyes. "You're always… you. Thanks for that." He's frowning, because he isn't totally sure what she means; decides it must be a reference to his awesomeness. She laughs under her breath; sniffles one last time. "I'm glad you and Ted are back together."

"Me too," he says, because that's the easy answer, and they sway in silence for the rest of the song.

* * *

 **2008**

* * *

After dancing to two love ballads and a few minutes of sympathetic listening, the third hottest woman at the reception is putty in Barney's hands (or will be very soon, what up). He sends whatshername off to get drinks with a playful tap on her ass — she giggles and skips away — but as soon as she's gone he's feeling blah again.

After all, how could his own _brother_ get married without hot bridesmaids? Doesn't James love him? And another thing, is James _really_ married? Barney was holding out hope until the last minute. Sure, the ceremony was beautiful, but does it really have to be this way? He's despondent and that isn't an emotion Barney enjoys.

"Catch and release?" He's just standing there on the dancefloor; turns around to see Robin sliding up to him. He has a weird urge to grin; one he stifles. The DJ starts up some slow rock song right about then, so she steps closer and he puts his hand on her waist and it seems natural to fall into a slow, shuffling dance.

"Sent her to go get drinks. If I establish authority over her now, she won't question what I tell her to do later," Barney says, with a little less relish than usual. "By which I mean, in the bedroom."

"Gross," Robin says with great sincerity, her eyebrows raised. "Hope this doesn't screw that up," she says, nodding at him.

"Nah, if she sees us dancing it'll just re-establish in her mind that I'm the aloof figure she needs to work even harder to impress, i.e., her dad. Don't you read my blog? I _sent_ you the link."

"Yeah," Robin says. "I set up my computer to just automatically rout your e-mails to the trash."

"What?" Barney takes a step away from her, or as best he can while they're slow dancing to some whiny rock. "I am outraged! My blog — all correspondence I send you — is exquisitely crafted life strategies and advice guaranteed to improve your life!"

"Yeah, the last e-mail I read before I started trashing them were the numbers 8-0-0-8-5 written in really big letters."

He snickers. "Boobs. Classic."

Robin laughs under her breath, despite herself. That's his favorite laughter of hers — not that he notices these things. "So," she says, wryly. "Your brother is married. How you holding up?"

They shuffle in a slow square. "Whatever," Barney says. "Tom is okay." He sort of means that. "But Eli's pretty awesome! Did you see him?"

"I saw him," Robin says with reservation. "But that isn't what I meant, really."

"Oh?" The song fades out and another song begins. He vaguely recognizes it; it's been on the radio a lot. More whiny rock; when did James's taste in music get so bad? It's faster paced, but they keep their slow shuffle. _You know that I could use somebody…_

"I just meant…" Robin smiles up at him, wry and knowing. "Your older brother and hero is happily married. I thought you Stinsons were above things like that." She nods over Barney's shoulder and he twists his head to see his brother and Tom sitting together, heads almost pressed together as they talk. He looks back at Robin. "Don't tell me you're next," she adds, teasing.

"Please." He snorts. "There isn't a woman or pair of boobs in the world worth _settling down_ for." He glances at Robin's, just because the conversation seems to demand it; she squeezes his shoulder warningly and he meets her eyes again. "James might have given in to a life of lame-itude, but not the Barnacle."

She chuckles. His hand is on her hip and he can feel the heat of her against his hand, through her dress; that and the view down her dress leaves him a little distracted. He can't remember what the third hottest woman looked like anymore; he's pretty sure Robin is the first. "If you say so," she says.

"I do say so."

"Good," she smiles.

They seem to have run out of things to say; just shuffling in a loose circle, looking into one another's eyes, indie rock in the background… Barney's spent enough of his life avoiding these things to understand what's happening now, and he clears his throat. "Although, speaking of boobs. Clarissa or whatever awaits." He steps back, taking his hand off of Robin's waist, unclasping his fingers from hers.

"Good luck out there," she calls, over the closing strains of the song, as he retreats and straightens his tie. "Don't go and share the fate of your brother!"

He turns and walks backwards to answer. "Who exactly do you think you're talking to here?" he calls back, gesturing over himself as she smiles and shakes her head in response.

* * *

 **2009**

* * *

AltruCell has an executive banquet dinner every February. Barney usually skips it because it's lame, but now that Marshall is working at GNB too, Barney scores Ted and Robin invites so they can all go together.

The steaks are good, talking with his bosses is lame, and it's only sort-of fun playing _guess my profession_ with the guys. Barney's heart just isn't in it today.

Robin's wearing a blue dress. Dark blue — what he'd call navy on a suit but something more elegant on her, _midnight_ or _ocean depths_ or _the color of her eyes_ — tight in the best ways, her hair slightly curled, falling over her shoulders; he wants to grab her and…

And… and stop this feelings outbreak before it gets any more embarrassing. There's a small orchestra playing, and he watches Marshall and Lily waltz around for a moment because otherwise he'd be looking at the way the light reflects in the highlights of Robin's hair…

Dammit. What happened to him? He used to be so awesome.

He drains his wine, and then reaches over and empties the glass at Ted's empty seat. Even Ted can't help him — Barney set him up with Carole from HR earlier in the night. At the time he'd been thinking it would give him a chance to be alone with Robin, but little did he know then that it would leave him alone… _with Robin._

She looks bored, also tracking Marshall and Lily, her chin propped up in one hand. He finds himself gazing at her hand and her mouth, thinking about that time last year…

He slams his head down on the table. What the hell is wrong with him?

"Woah!" Robin says, half surprised and half wary. "Barney, are you okay?"

He doesn't lift his head. "I hate feelings," he says, his voice muffled by the tablecloth. A wild and crazy part of him hopes that Robin will know what he means or at least ask, but the rest of him cringes in terror at what he just said. Luckily, Robin's never been all that into questioning the weirdness around her. (It's adorable. He loves that about her. _Why does his brain keep doing this?_ )

"They do suck," she says. With his forehead still pressed against the table, he tells himself sternly that Robin isn't _that_ hot, which isn't true, her boobs aren't _that_ big, which is, and that he is too awesome to be acting like this. "What's going on?" she asks, and all at once Robin reaches over and touches his hair.

First she pats his head, then she sort of strokes his hair like you would a pet, but it pushes every nerve in his body to a tight, heart pounding edge and he almost falls over in his haste to throw himself away from her. She looks wide-eyed and surprised — probably she thought it was just a friendship thing, a sympathy for poor Barney thing — "Is everything okay?" she asks, now wary.

He clears his throat and sits back up, straightening his jacket. "Everything's great. Awesome. Great." Robin just kind of stares at him. "Great," he says again.

She stares at him with raised eyebrows for another minute, and he uses all his perjury-knowhow to keep his expression blank and posture straight. No fidgeting, lots of eye contact, _I have never sold weapons to either Korea, your honor_. He pulls it off: Robin quirks her eyebrows in a sort of shrug, looks away at the dance floor.

He breathes a sigh of relief, but then she looks back at him. "Hey, wanna dance?"

His hand grips at the table, hard, his heart in his throat. "What?" His voice comes out an octave too high. He tries not to throw himself out of his chair and run out of the room.

"Well… yeah," Robin says, looking adorably uncomfortable, "It's kind of a tradition, right? We always seem to end up dancing. It's kind of fun." she clears her throat; he watches her throat bob, his heart still pounding. She's frowning a little, at whatever she sees on his face.

 _We always seem to dance at these things_. He's never thought about it or paid attention to it, but she's right, and his heart is still in his throat. He could _dance with her_ — he could hold her and smell her hair (and then he'd put the moves on her and she'd fall into his arms and they'd get a hotel room and somewhere between amazingly dirty sex acts he'd tell her…) and — and — he'd continue to be a pathetic, lovesick loser?

Dancing was something the old Barney had done, the Before Feelings Barney had done. He hadn't remembered it because it hadn't been important to that guy, which makes him realize suddenly that he's not that guy. He's a new guy. A pathetic, lovesick guy. Robin's little tradition had been with the old Barney, not him.

(But she _asked_. He could say sure, he could touch her, touch her hair, give her a great line, bring her to a hotel room…) "Please," he says, without enough emphasis, so it sounds for half a second like he's asking. " _Please_. Barney Stinson doesn't _do_ tradition. Or dance with chicks without something happening," he adds, recklessly, but Robin doesn't react. "But you're that desperate, I can hook you up with a similarly desperate single, or Ted."

"Fine, whatever," she says, leaning heavy against the back of her chair. "I was just asking."

He looks at the light reflecting in her hair, and then forces his gaze out to the dancefloor, where Marshall and Lily are still swaying, where Ted is talking to Carole at the bar, and tells himself he made the right choice.

* * *

 **2011**

* * *

Robin is in the aisle seat, with Ted in the center and Lily at the window, but when Ted gets up to use the bathroom mid-flight, Lily decides to make Barney swap seats with her so she can check on still-drunk, currently passed out Marshall. Barney clambers over Robin and sits in Ted's vacated seat, flopping down as best he can manage in a cramped commuter flight out of Cleveland.

Robin shoots him a look as he starts to flip through his cell phone, his arm hogging their shared armrest and elbowing her in the side. "Really? Had you pegged for a window seat kind of guy," she says.

"We're currently flying over Buffalo. There is nothing worth seeing," Barney says, not tearing his eyes from his phone.

Robin looks at him. It's bright out, and the light from the airplane window lightens his hair and illuminates his eyelashes. For some reason she finds herself kind of staring at them; he doesn't notice, still distracted by his phone. His phone. Robin frowns.

"Nora's not going to text you mid-flight. You shouldn't even have your phone _on_." _Turn it off_ , she wants to yell at him. _Talk to_ me.

"It's not on," he says, flashing the screen at her. He's just playing a game; she relaxes. "Like I'd crash a plane I'm _on_."

She smiles at that and he flashes her a grin back, the cheerful, mischievous one she lo… likes. Enjoys. She presses her arm onto the arm rest, hoping to push his off or cede herself some space, wanting the contact but not wanting to admit it to herself. "Can I ask you something?" she asks, glancing across the aisle at Lily, who isn't paying attention.

"Sure, what's up?" he says, looking away from his game.

"Last night, at the reception…" Even as she asks, she isn't sure what she's going to say. "Before Nora called…" she looks at the tray table in front of her, the little level holding it in place. The issue of Skymall in the seat pocket. Not at Barney, not for this. _Tell him how you feel. Tell him he doesn't have a chance with you. Tell him you hate Nora and don't want her dating him because…_ Lily's pretend voice mixes with her truth voice and she really has no clue what she wants to ask. A lot of things. What he was thinking in the hurricane a couple of weeks ago. What he thinks about Nora. What he used to think about her. What he meant in the cab. Why he called Nora so many times. What he thinks about her now…

"Yeah?" he prompts, gently, as gently as he gets, meaning that he sounds confused instead of impatient.

Robin's mental Lily voice scolds her, but she can't say it. Any of it. "Why did you just… suddenly pull me onto the dance floor like that?" she asks, blurts out really, because on top of everything else she's been seeing him, the eager grin on his face, whenever she drifts off or closes her eyes, and it's… he's looking at her, an unreadable look, she's never been able to read his expressions, the not-quite smile he has now, his eyes crinkled up at the edges…

"Dude, way to steal my seat," Ted says suddenly from behind Robin, back from the bathroom.

"Whatever, I saved you the window," Barney says, looking up at him, and then there's a minute of everyone standing up and letting Ted squeeze by into Lily's abandoned seat. By the time they're all comfortable again, the moment is gone.

Or so Robin thinks, but Barney elbows his way onto the arm rest she'd claimed in the shuffle, their arms pressed side by side. "It's tradition," he says.

"What?" On Barney's other side, Ted has pulled out a book; Barney twists his head to face her, the sunlight illuminating his hair and the eyelashes of one eye.

"Dancing together. We always dance at parties, remember? It's like a tradition. A _bro_ dition."

He smiles at her, the real one, not the pickup one, and she warms from her arm to her gut to her heart.

They always dance at parties.

But that's not true — she remembers one party just before they started dating, where she'd asked him and he'd said no, flat out and really weirdly, which she'd remembered for its strangeness and later because she'd found out why, because he'd been crushing on her and too weird to say so: They hadn't danced that time because he'd had feelings for her. A friendly, platonic tradition. Nothing more than that.

Ted says, "mind if I shut this?" and pulls down the window shade, clicks on his light and turns back to his novel.

"Yeah," Robin says. "I figured that was all it was."


End file.
